Stolen Identity
by Lunaterre224
Summary: Draco Malfoy has never been to Hogwarts, never met Harry Potter. He isn't even a bad person. Unfortunately, someone has been walking around Hogwarts impersonating him for the past four years. A stupid story I couldn't stop thinking about. Rated T because I'm paranoid.
1. Prologue

It was a well known fact that Draco Malfoy was a jerk. An incredibly rich, spoiled jerk who was raised to think himself superior to others. That was the Draco Malfoy everyone else knew. The other Draco, however was nothing of the sort.

* * *

The Malfoy heir sat on his bed, his standard issue hospital gown not quite reaching his ankles. His blond hair was not slicked back and his feet were bare. He looked more ill than he actually was, his pale skin taking a sickly tone due to his lack of sunlight.

Draco had been locked up far too long. He sat on the bed staring at the door, waiting for it to open. The matron of the ward was a thin woman with the face of a sour lemon and had far too much experience dealing with Draco's attempted bids for freedom. Only this time, Draco had a plan. Usually, Draco didn't bother with such things, he was far too hot tempered and impulsive, but now he would have to be patient and use every ounce of his Malfoy cunning to get him out of here.

Isolation was definitely getting to him. His parents hadn't visited in ages and their brief conversations were always tinged with disappointment, but it was the subtlety of human interaction that the lonely private ward didn't offer. Draco continued to stare at the door. When it opened he would have to pretend to make a run for it, to avoid suspicion. However, he had to time his plan perfectly if it was to work, for the matron wasn't tricked easily, a fact Draco had learnt from experience.

Briefly, Draco closed his eyes in a moment of indulgence. He allowed the memories of his other self wash over him; the sounds of the Great Hall, Pansy Parkinson asking him to the Yule Ball, Professor Snape awarding points for his potion...

Suddenly, his eyes snapped open, returning to the door. He couldn't afford to let himself get distracted. If he was to ever get outside of St. Mungo's and his father's influence, he would need all the preparation he could get. Still, the tales of Hogwarts always fascinated him, despite the fact that he had never set foot in the castle...

A shadow formed on the other side of the door and Draco tensed in preparation, as the door handle turned. Draco leapt from the bed, hoping to gain the element of surprise, just this once. However, the matron was ready for him, as always and Draco froze as the stunning spell hit him.

Swiftly, with practised efficiency, the matron moved him back to the bed, where she administered his potions. Personally, Draco didn't know why she bothered with the pretence. Everyone had long since learnt that there was no curing him - that's why they had made his replacement after all - and Draco had no choice but to simply glare at the matron who was so-obviously on his father's pay roll.

The matron finished her duties and locked the door behind her, leaving Draco time to make adjustments to his plan while he waited for the stunning spell to wear off.


	2. Christmas On The Closed Ward

Neville trailed after his grandmother hopelessly as she strode determinedly through St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. It was tradition for him to visit his parents every Christmas, but this year he wasn't quite feeling it. His grandmother had written to Professor Dumbledore, so that he could visit his parents, but still return to Hogwarts for the Yule Ball afterwards and Neville felt embarrassed about the special treatment. He was following his grandmother up the stairs to the fourth floor where his parents were, as he always did, when something distinctly unusual happened.

The Healer for the Janus Thickey Ward met them outside the entrance to the ward, on her way to deliver the presents and gave her normal greeting to the Longbottoms when she called out to a passing matron with a sour face.

"Stella! One of these presents is for your patient!" A couple of boxes fell from her arms. "Oh, give me a second."

The matron, who had been just about to enter a nondescript ward opposite the one which held Neville's parents when the Healer called out, glared at her haughtily. "Fine, give it here!" She said in exasperation. "Hopefully presents will calm him down."

Neville looked on curiously, despite his grandmother tugging him in the other direction. He had never seen the ward opposite the Janus Thickey and he wondered who could possibly be inside the private ward. Dragging his feet so he could get a good look when the matron opened the door, Neville craned his neck. He was surprised when a boy rush through the door in a blur of blond hair as soon as it was unlocked.

The boy tackled the matron, sending presents flying. With a jolt of shock, Neville recognised the boy. It was Draco Malfoy.

* * *

Draco had spent so much time planning this moment. He knew that the only way he would be able to get past the matron was to catch her unawares, a feat which was almost impossible. However, he had learnt that the one day she would not immediately apprehend him was Christmas day, when she would often be carrying his presents and (hopefully) would be distracted enough with holding them that he could get past her.

Closing his eyes for a second, Draco felt the memories from his counterpart; the Slytherin Common Room, getting ready for the Yule Ball, a discarded transfiguration essay...

Shaking his head to clear the thoughts, Draco snapped his attention back to the door. He couldn't afford to lose focus - if he didn't escape today, it would take months until he next had an opportunity to escape. Eyes fixed upon the door, Draco strained his ears for footsteps or any other sign that the matron was approaching.

He sat there for hours, senses alert, ready for action at a moment's notice. Eventually, he heard the sound of the matron's snappy voice, a sound Draco recognised from when his parents visited (an event which seemed too long ago). Draco prepared himself, his body a coiled spring.

Slowly, painfully slowly, the door handle twisted and Draco sprinted from the start-line, crashing into the matron before she had the chance to cast a spell to stop him. Presents spilled from her arms, smashing onto the floor between the wards. Unfortunately, this left the matron's arms free to grab Draco into a headlock.

As Draco twisted and struggled, he remained oblivious to his audience. His only thoughts were of escape and how long he had planned this moment, only to be foiled once more. Rage filled him, as his desperation for freedom left him, propelling the hated matron backwards. Her head hit the wall behind her and she lay still, leaving Draco standing there, swaying slightly. It had been a long time since he had last done accidental magic and the effort taken to blast a grown adult backwards had left Draco with very little energy left.

The Healer rushed towards her colleague, checking for a pulse and then giving a sigh, relieved. Augusta Longbottom however, stood in front of her grandson protectively and pointed her wand at the teenage boy. Draco, exhausted, collapsed before the first restraining spell hit him.


	3. The Yule Ball

**Okay, this is just a story which popped into my head and wouldn't leave me alone. However, I still want to focus on Opposites, so this will probably be uploaded at a slower rate.** **This story is just for fun and all characters belong to their owners.**

* * *

Dumbledore was most disgruntled when requested for assistance at St. Mungo's Hospital that evening. He had just finished waltzing with Madame Maxime when an urgent owl arrived from Mrs Longbottom. Quickly and politely making his excuses to the other headteachers, Dumbledore made his way to the magical hospital.

The fact that he was being summoned here was highly unusual and Albus wondered what Augusta found so important that she felt the need to interrupt a night of international cooperation. Frowning, Dumbledore realised that Augusta had never apparated Neville to the school gates like their agreement had stated. He hoped nothing bad had happened to the youngest Longbottom, especially after what had happened to his parents.

Taking the stairs to the ward indicated on Augusta's letter, Albus' unease deepened further for it was a private ward he had never been in before. Two of the beds were occupied; one with a sour faced woman dressed in a matron's outfit, while the other Albus couldn't immediately see because of the crowding around the bed.

"Good to see you've finally arrived, Headmaster," Kingsley Shacklebolt told him.

Dumbledore smiled amicably. "It took a while to make my excuses. May I ask why you have brought me here?"

"Look," Augusta said, nodding towards the bed. "Was Lucius Malfoy's son at the Yule Ball just now?"

Dumbledore glanced at the occupied bed and this was one of the very few occasions where he was taken entirely by surprise. "That's impossible."

He distinctly remembered the Malfoy boy at the Yule Ball wearing black dress robes and dancing with his simpering girlfriend. His mind ran through all the possibilities: polyjuice perhaps? Severus had been complaining about missing potions ingredients lately...

"Are you sure that is really Mr Malfoy? Not a fake?"

Shacklebolt nodded. "I have run several diagnostic spells and that is in fact the real Draco Malfoy. The more startling fact though is that from interviewing what few hospital staff knew of his presence, he's been here for several years."

Dumbledore's eyes widened. "That's most curious. Of course, it begs the question who is the boy up in Hogwarts?"

"The child's traumatised, Albus!" Augusta exclaimed. "He was trying to escape after being locked up in this room for so long and from what we can tell it's Lucius himself who has paid for the boy to be kept here!"

Neville remained quiet. In all the years he had been visiting his parents, he had never imagined that someone was being held prisoner just across the hall and for that person to be _Draco Malfoy_... Neville wasn't sure what to think.

Dumbledore looked down upon the form of the sleeping boy. "Has his father been notified?"

"Given the circumstances, the aurors have decided to arrest him for the time being." Kingsley stated quietly. "We're not sure what's going on exactly, but someone's impersonating his son and the original has been locked up - something that he has privately funded. Whatever's happening, it sure doesn't look good."

Thinking carefully about this new development, Dumbledore planned his next move. "I'll collect the Malfoy look-alike and deposit him at aurora headquarters for questioning tomorrow morning, Kingsley. For the mean time, I will escort Mr Longbottom here back to the school, I'm sure Miss Weasley is tired waiting for you." He added kindly.


	4. The Parting of the Ways

**I don't know why, but my other story just isn't writing very well at the moment. Hopefully I will update both stories tomorrow, but until then, I lave you with this chapter.**

* * *

The person known as Draco Malfoy woke the morning after the Yule Ball to a sense of uneasiness. Groaning slightly, Malfoy pulled himself out of bed to discover the rest of his dormitory was asleep. Frowning, he heard a sort of rattling sound at the end of his bed.

With a moan, Malfoy wiped the sleep from his eyes and opened up his trunk. Inside, his sneakoscope spun, bouncing of the sides of his trunk. His sense of unease heightened, Malfoy grabbed his robes and shoes. Dressing quickly (and feeling ridiculous while doing so) he exited the dormitory, wand held in front of him.

It was not often he felt fear. Actual, real fear. Usually, he just went running to his "father" when there was a problem he couldn't solve by flaunting his pureblood status. Now was one of the few times in his life when he felt this primal emotion flow through him.

Malfoy couldn't really understand why he was feeling this way. He stood in the shadows of the Slytherin Common Room, but he could not find any reason why his sneakoscope and instincts had been acting up. Malfoy quickly exited the common room - it didn't feel safe to stay put. Hurrying on his way out of the dungeons, Malfoy searched for a position where he wouldn't be so exposed if there was a confrontation.

After wondering the corridors for a couple of hours, the first signs of life started to show inside the castle, with students laughing with each other on their way to breakfast in the Great Hall. Still, Malfoy was unable to relax. It was the sensation of a calm before a storm and Malfoy had no idea what form the danger would take.

Fatigued, Malfoy leant against one of the castle walls for a moment and closed his eyes. Usually it was like looking through a warped piece of seaglass, viewing the memories of the original Draco Malfoy, for all of the moments that were vaguely interesting happened a long time in the past. Malfoy had no intention of reminiscing about St. Mungo's hospital beds, so he would ignore all the recent memories. Today, however he lingered.

Whatever intuition made him do so, Malfoy was grateful. The fact that his double was no longer locked up was a major cause for concern, as was the arrest of his father - not that he would be contained for long. Reopening his eyes, Malfoy blinked in surprise to find himself looking into the face of Pansy Parkinson, his date from the ball last night.

"Draco!" For a second, Malfoy feared that Pansy would hug or kiss him or do something equally inappropriate for people of their position. Instead, she simply beamed at him, which Malfoy found quite disconcerting. "Professor Snape said he wanted to talk to you after breakfast."

"Professor Snape?" Malfoy's thoughts went into overdrive. If anyone had found out the truth about him, would Snape stand by his father? Or would he go running to Dumbledore? Malfoy knew it would be a close call and decided that he would rather not wait and see.

Pansy nodded enthusiastically, pleased to have been of use. "He came and asked after you as straight after his morning conversation with Dumbledore." She seemed delighted to prove useful information, but her mouth twisted with distaste when she uttered the Headmaster's name.

"Thank you, Pansy." Malfoy told the girl solemnly (you had to pity her really). "That was most informative."

He swept away with as much dignity as he could muster, not heading in the direction of the Great Hall, but the Hogwarts grounds. A meeting with Dumbledore would not be worth the risk. As he reached the school gates, Malfoy took one last look at the castle and realising that he might just miss the damned place. He shook the stupid thought from his mind, it would be a fatal move for someone like him to get attached to anything.


	5. Occlumency

Draco Malfoy sat up in bed, clutching his head and feeling dizzy. Why had his counterpart decided to leave Hogwarts? Ever since he had disappeared into the Forbidden Forest, his memories had been oddly fuzzy, as if he had been using occlumency against him.

In the recent weeks, life had been rather overwhelming for the boy. He hadn't had this much company in... Draco struggled to think of when; his father hated to give him any more opportunities than necessary to discredit his heritage. Draco felt exhausted, despite never leaving the hospital - although he was now allowed to go on walks outside of his ward.

The amount of people who had wanted to talk to him had been disorientating: Dumbledore; ministry officials; his father's lawyer; the Healers. It was quite an extensive list and for someone who had never seen that many people all at once, it had Draco crouching in a corner. This weakness was irrational, Draco knew that, but after being held in relative isolation for so many years crowds seemed so very threatening.

After the Healers had figured out why Draco would hide whenever someone new entered the ward, they had restricted visitors to three people at once. Currently, his only regular visitors however were from the Healers, Dumbledore and Augusta Longbottom who would often visit the ward opposite.

When Draco had told Dumbledore all about the _other Draco_ using occulemency against him, the ancient wizard had gone very still, then bombarded him with questions about their link. Personally, Draco thought they should be worrying about how his impersonator had learnt occlumency and was using it successfully, but that was before he learnt that his situation was distinctly unusual - if not unique - so Draco decided to give the Headmaster some slack.

In other news, his father had been questioned using veritaserum, meaning that he had admitted to hiding Draco away and having him replaced because he was such a disappointment. Dumbledore still wanted to question him again about how the imposter had gained the original Draco's memories, but the ministry had wanted to keep the case as quiet as possible and Draco's father was currently enjoying a cell inside Azkaban.

However, the best new by far was when Dumbledore had told Draco that he would be allowed to attend Hogwarts next term, something Draco had dreamed about for a long time. He wouldn't even be behind the other students, for he would had memories of all the lessons from the last three years. Some days, Draco wondered if he was dreaming, as how could he, Draco, possibly allowed to go to Hogwarts and make friends?


	6. The Sorting Hat

**Partly inspired by "A Sorting Like No Other" by Stargon 1.**

* * *

Draco Malfoy was fairly certain that he had never felt more embarrassed in his entire life. Not even his shared embarrassment when his counterpart had been transfigured into a ferret at the beginning of the school term. He was standing between the tables of the Great Hall and the entirety of Hogwarts was watching him.

His breathing was shallow and under the combined gaze of the three schools he was shaking. _There was just so many people_. He knew his face was pale and he could feel sweat beading on his forehead. Somehow, this wasn't what Draco imagined what would happen when he finally attended Hogwarts.

"Malfoy, Draco." Professor McGonagall's voice cut through the whisperings of the Great Hall.

Still shuddering in anticipation and fear, Draco made his way to the front of the hall, where a ragged hat sat upon a four-legged stool. Wiping his sweaty palms on his new robes, Draco felt the hat land upon his head.

This was different from his memories as well. Instead of immediately crying out Slytherin as soon as it hit his head, he heard a voice whisper in his ear. Draco closed his eyes, blocking out the amount of faces that were staring at him.

"That's interesting. So many similarities and yet so many differences. You both have ambition sure, a hot temper and you will often speak your mind without considering the consequence."

 _So are you going to sort me or not?_ Draco demanded. He could feel the stares of the Great Hall piercing through the hat, he wiped his sweat-ridden palms on his robes again and focused on not fainting in front of the three schools.

"Well, Slytherin might work... but due to your different experiences to your counterpart I think it will be best if I placed you in GRYFFINDOR!" The hat shouted out the last word and a round of scattered and confused applause sounded throughout the hall, mostly from the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang who weren't entirely sure what was going on. Most of the Slytherin and Gryffindor tables sat in stunned silence, wondering what the heck had happened.

Draco wobbled on his way to the Gryffindor table, feeling dizzy at the sheer amount of people in the hall. His new housemates glared at him, but Draco found a spare seat next to Neville Longbottom and sat in it before anyone could stop him. Over at the Slytherin table, they had recovered from their shock and now were in fits of fury, calling Draco a traitor.

This was most definitely not how Draco had imagined his first day at Hogwarts.


	7. The Boy Who Lived

**Thank you for everyone who reviewed, followed or favourited this story. I honestly didn't think this would get that much of a reaction.**

 **This chapter is told from the perspective of the "real" Draco Malfoy - just to be clear.**

* * *

Draco was the most hated person in Gryffindor Tower and his new roommates weren't afraid to let him know that fact. When the fourth year Gryffindors reached their beloved dormitory, they discovered a sixth bed waiting for them. The occupants of the room were currently arguing about who had to sleep closest to Draco - while simultaneously insulting him.

Sighing, Draco flopped down on his new bed and tried to block out their voices, drawing the hangings around his bed. He didn't even bother to change out of his robes as he had no intention of spending more time around the reckless, Malfoy-hating Gryffindors which he would now have classes with.

Staring at the red and gold decorations, Draco wondered if staring at all that red made all the Gryffindors angry all the time. They almost always seemed angry with him in his memories, but usually Draco could find a reason to justify it - his double was a total jerk after all. Draco rolled his eyes with a snort: as if he'd _ever_ buy into that pureblood supremacy nonsense!

Draco had trouble sleeping that night and not just because he hadn't changed out of his robes. He tossed and turned as his nightmare had him running through the halls of Hogwarts, all his counterpart's Slytherin friends chasing him. Running to the Fat Lady's portrait, Draco called the password to get in, but Ron and Neville refused to let him and laughed when the Slytherins finally caught him...

Gasping, Draco sat up in bed to find his hangings open and two wands in his face. For a moment, Draco wondered if he was still asleep and if this was just another part of his nightmare. The dormitory was dark and silent and two figures which Draco couldn't make out loomed over him.

"Give it up, Malfoy! Whatever you're planning, it isn't going to work!" The voice obviously belonged to one of the boys in the dorm, but with his lack of sleep Draco couldn't for the life of him tell who it belonged to.

Draco reached into his robes, hoping his wand hadn't fallen out while he slept. Mrs Longbottom had been kind enough to take him to Diagon Alley so he could shop for school supplies and his very own wand. His counterpart had a wand, but his parents had thought it would be a mistake to spend money on their real son. To his horror, his wand had rolled onto the bed and one of the Gryffindors retrieved it.

"Why are you here, Malfoy?" This voice was calmer, but still full of dislike. Draco decided to focus on this voice.

Draco shrugged, but then realised that they might not see it in the dark. "The Sorting Hat placed me here. It isn't like I chose to go here just to ruin your lives or anything."

The first voice snorted. "Can't blame the Slytherins of getting sick of you."

"Well that's funny, because I was never sorted into Slytherin in the first place!" Draco snapped, his anger rising. Why couldn't they just let him go to sleep? Did they have to interrogate him in the middle of the night?§

"I'm sorry, what?"

"But you're _Malfoy_! Of course you're in Slytherin!" The first voice exclaimed.

There seemed to be a sense of unease between the two ambushers and there sounded like a bit of a commotion, before someone _finally_ decided to light their wands.

" _Lumos_!" A small glow appeared at the end of Harry Potter's wand. "Right, now explain."

"What does he need to explain?" The redhead beside him asked, wand still pointed at Draco's face. "He's a bloody snake!"

Draco looked between the two. In all of his memories, both of them had been his enemy. Maybe it was time to start afresh. "I'm not Slytherin and I've never been in Slytherin!" He paused for a moment, thinking. "To be honest, I'm not sure if I've ever _wanted_ to be Slytherin." Like he would do anything just to please his father.

Ron stared at him as if he had suddenly started talking Japanese or even Gobbledygook. Harry looked equally confused. "That makes no sense whatsoever. I'm fairly certain you've been in Slytherin ever since our first year."

"No I haven't." Draco sighed. "This is my _first night_ at Hogwarts and that was the _first time_ I sat in the Great Hall and was sorted and this is the _first time_ I have ever spoken to the great Harry Potter, so excuse me, but I want to go to sleep." With that passing statement, Draco rolled over and did just that, leaving two very confused Gryffindors, one still holding his new wand.

The Weasley looked between his enemy and his best friend. "What the bloody hell just happened?"


	8. The Lion And The Serpent

**Hello again and thank you to everyone who read, favourited, followed or reviewed. The amount of response I have been getting from this story has taken me completely by surprise!**

 **This chapter will be from Neville's perspective. :)**

* * *

To say Draco was little unwelcome in Gryffindor Tower was a massive understatement. The Weasley twins had taken to pranking him mercilessly and any self-respecting Gryffindor was expected to give him the cold shoulder. Which is probably why Neville was paired with everyone's least favourite sort-of-Gryffindor.

They were practising the Banishing Charm today, which was the opposite of the Summoning Charm Harry had used in the First Task of the Triwizard Tournament. Pretty much everyone was having fun flinging objects across the classroom. Well, everyone except two Gryffindors who stood awkwardly at the back of the class.

Neville sighed, as his aim went wide yet again, sending Professor Flitwick flying across the room. The class dissolved into chaos and Draco ducked a cushion sent by Ron, which sailed through the air and knocked Parvati's hat off. Dodging another projectile, the young Malfoy strode over to his partner.

"Try getting your aim right _and then_ attempting the spell," he told Neville, thinking of his memories about spell casting. "Like this." He gave a small demonstration and his spell hit the cushion and it landed beside the box they were supposed to be aiming for.

"Er, right." Said Neville, who was understandably nervous to be standing next to his not-so arch nemesis. This whole "not evil" thing tied his mind into knots. He aimed his wand, focused hard (screwing up his face in the process) and cast the charm.

It shot in a straight line towards the cushion, which shot across the classroom and landed in the box. Neville blinked in surprise. Even Draco felt a little shocked at how easily Neville had done it.

"Wow, Neville." Draco breathed. "You're the first one in the class to master the spell." Only, just as he spoke, Hermione Granger flicked her wand while quarrelling with her friends. Her cushion flew across the room and landed in the box they were supposed to be aiming at. Professor Flitwick (who had been too busy trying to restore order to the class when Neville had attempted the Banishing Charm) awarded Gryffindor twenty points, but Hermione had returned to her conversation with Harry and Ron and none of them appeared to notice.

Neville looked slightly put-out that no one except Draco Malfoy had seen him come top of the class for once. But he still managed a meagre smile. "Yeah, no one except Hermione seems to have made any progress." They shared a grin, as they watched the rest of the class struggle.

Then, Neville realised who he was currently grinning with and promptly stopped. Draco Malfoy and Neville Longbottom could never be friends. It probably went against every cosmic law of the universe. Sneaking a glance at his new dorm-mate, Neville decided that it was probably a fluke. The sort of moment which would never happen again.

He watched Harry cast the charm and his cushion flew straight across the room, landing neatly on top of Hermione's - much to the surprise of everyone watching. Neville shook his head, ridding himself of his nagging thoughts of protest. _Yep,_ he thought solemnly. _Most definitely a fluke._

So by the lunchtime, Neville had himself convinced once more that he was useless and sat down at the Gryffindor table as far away from the former Slytherin as he could manage. Not really having anyone to talk to, Neville pulled out the Herbology textbook Professor Moody had leant him and began to read.

* * *

 **This chapter was based on the scene at the beginning of "The Second Task" in the Goblet of Fire.**

 **I've always believed that Neville just needed someone to believe in him, as he isn't particularly close to anyone in his dormitory and the fact that he lead the DA and he could hold his own in the Department of Mysteries proves that he's a great wizard. Meanwhile, no one's sure what to make of Gryffindor-Draco and the Malfoy-Imposter has disappeared into the shadows for the time being.**


	9. The Flaw in the Plan

**Hello readers. Sorry updates have been a bit slow lately. This chapter's a little short, but it will soon be the Second Task!**

 **Also, Draco's doppelgänger will be appearing in a chapter soon.** **This chapter is from the original Draco Malfoy's perspective however.**

* * *

Draco Malfoy couldn't sleep. It was the night before the Second Task and he had a horrible feeling to do with his other. He got out of bed with the full intension of warning Dumbledore that his imposter was planning something, but those plans were destroyed the moment he entered the common room.

Sitting under a pile of books was Harry Potter, with a large ginger cat sitting on his lap. The sight was so unusual, that Draco wondered if he was dreaming because since when has the Boy Who Lived been one for extra classwork?

"Hermione?" He asked tentatively. It had to be polyjuice potion. Although Draco couldn't think why she would need to use it and it was obvious that it wasn't Harry Potter in front of him. For a start, it was Hermione's cat.

The messy haired, bespectacled boy looked up from _Dreadful Denizens of the Deep_ , his eyes puffy and red. "McGonagall asked to see her. She's not here."

"Professor McGonagall's keeping a student up long past curfew?" Draco made it clear from his voice how unlikely that sounded.

'Harry' frowned. "Yeah, that does seem odd. She wanted to see Ron as well and he's not back either."

"You're not worried?" Draco asked when 'Harry' said this. Honestly, you would think _Hermione Granger_ would come up with a better cover story. Whatever Potter and Weasley were up to, it had to be something dangerous or stupid or both.

"I would be, but I really need to find a way to breathe underwater for an hour." Draco raised an eyebrow. "None of the books in the library mention anything, so I'm beginning to wonder if it's even possible!" Hermione's rant finished with a sort of wail.

Draco sat in the chair next to 'Harry'. "Well, if you're wondering that, then you haven't been paying any attention for the past month." He studied Harry's face for a sign of understanding. A second passed.

"Seriously?" Draco exclaimed. "How have you managed to miss that?"

"Would you just tell me what I've missed?" Snapped the tired and irritable Gryffindor.

Draco shook his head. "Talk to Neville. He's been reading this book Professor Moody gave him and has been blurting out facts from it for weeks. And one of those highly irrelevant facts - which you've somehow missed - was about a plant which could make you breathe underwater."

His housemate stared at him and Draco felt his lips curl up into a smirk. 'Harry' ran upstairs to the boys' dormitory, leaving Draco wondering where Harry and Ron really were on the night before the Second Task.

* * *

 **This chapter is based on the part half-way through the chapter The Second Task in 'The Goblet of Fire'.**

 **For all of** **those who didn't get that: Harry is busy trying to prepare for the Triwizard Tournament, while Hermione and Ron are in McGonagall's office (read: being held hostage by merpeople). Naturally, as seeing Harry study is a rare sight, Draco assumes that it is really Hermione under polyjuice who is covering for Harry and Ron's absence while they do something Gryffindor-ish and dangerous.**


	10. The Beginning

The being that wore the face of the Draco Malfoy was frustrated. With his father imprisoned for his existence and the likes of Dumbledore and the Ministry hunting for him, while trying to hush up the entire incident, there were very few options left. He knew that Malfoy Manor was being watched and that it wasn't safe to contact his mother.

Malfoy suppressed a sigh. As much as he'd like to use magic, Draco's trace was still in place and the Ministry would soon know his position. It was completely typical. Not only was he traipsing around the countryside with only his clothes and his wand like some sort of commoner, he was forced to act as though he was a filthy muggle in order to avoid the aurors.

Wrapping his cloak further around his shoulders, Malfoy continued trudging down the beaten track he was walking down. Mud pooled around his once spotless boots and the he gave a small groan as it entered his socks. The night was cold and he had been unable to keep track of the days or the wizarding news. Was anyone still looking for him? Malfoy didn't want to risk it.

A bluster-y breeze swept in, as a gale began to blow in addition to the cold and the mud and the wet. Malfoy hated the outdoors. Apart from Quidditch, there wasn't any reason for him to leave the comfort of the hearth at home and Malfoy wished he was warm in bed. Shivering, he shuddered as another wall of wind slammed into him, chilling him to the bone.

Still, he kept walking. Even though his nose began to run in an extremely undignified way and it felt as if he would never be warm again. Teeth chattering, Malfoy wondered if this was the end. He couldn't survive on his own - he'd always survived because someone more powerful could protect him - now, there was no Crabbe or Goyle and he was outside the influence of his mother and father. Only the thought of what he was walking towards kept him going. If he made it, it would be worth Nature's wrath.

Malfoy was yet to discover whether he would make it though.

His hands were white like bone and he found that he was unable to unfurl his fingers from their tight fist. Quivering from the cold, Malfoy attempted to get some warmth into his fingertips. Teetering back and forth in the wind, he was able to make out a signpost. Malfoy laughed. This was most definitely not the end for him; he was almost there.

The features of Draco Malfoy's face warped themselves into a grin. Another blow from the elements thundered towards him, but Malfoy paid no mind. He was too busy imagining what he hoped would be awaiting him. For this was not the end. This was only the beginning.

Shrieking wildly, the wind knocked the signpost and sent it tumbling down the lane. It was a thousand miles from Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry and the Triwizard Task that would start in less than twelve hours time. And yet, there was more action in the tiny English village than most of Hogwarts would witness at the Black Lake. The signpost twirled like a ballet dancer and landed in a hedgerow.

Little Hangleton: 1 Mile.


	11. The Second Task

**Well, this chapter is much longer than I expected it to be. Sorry it has been taking me so long to update, I have been writing, but it has mostly only came in short bursts of inspiration.**

 **Thank you to everyone who read, followed, favourited or reviewed this story!**

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Draco Malfoy immersed himself in the crowd of red and gold besides the lake. Although he wasn't the most popular member of Gryffindor House, if he sat anywhere else he knew that the Slytherins would try something. Besides the whole "traitor who got re-sorted into Gryffindor" thing, he had made himself even more unpopular by giving witness at his father's trial. He had been able to provide evidence that he was a Death Eater and that he had locked away his only son in a hospital for more than four years because he didn't share the same views. It was more than enough of a revenge to see him carted off to Azkaban.

In short, he was Slytherin's Public Enemy Number Two (directly after the Boy Who Lived). Draco would be flattered - if he wasn't so terrified.

Neville came to stand beside him. "You're the one who told Harry that I knew about Gillyweed, aren't you, Draco?"

"I didn't tell Harry, I told Hermione." Draco shrugged, remembering the weird polyjuice conversation from last night.

He gasped in pain and surprise when Neville punched him in the arm. Draco stared at his fellow Gryffindor in incomprehension. "What?" He spluttered.

"That's for keeping me up all night! Harry was asking too many questions and I couldn't get back to sleep!" It was possibly the first time Draco had ever seen Neville properly angry. He made a mental note never to upset the boy when he was sleep-deprived. "Next time Harry has to do some impossible task, give him a hint when it isn't _the night before_ said impossible task!"

Draco awkwardly took a step back, not trusting Neville to punch him again. His arm throbbed in pain. Around them, people were starting to notice the commotion. Draco groaned, as the Slytherins began laughing about how he got beaten up by _Neville Longbottom_ of all people.

"I'll keep that in mind." Draco told him, rubbing his arm where a bruise was beginning to form. "No doubt, he'll have another impossible task to face sometime soon."

Neville gave a snort at that and Draco found himself relax a little, as the Second Task was about to begin. Ludo Bagman was lining up the champions along the shore of the lake and Draco watched as Harry shivered, only wearing a pair of greying swimming trunks.

"One... two... _three_!" Bagman roared and three-quarters of the champions dived into the lake. Harry simply waded in until waist-deep and ate something he had been holding, something slimy that Draco hadn't noticed before. Jeers had already started coming from the Slytherin crowd. Turning to Neville, Draco noticed that he was on the edge of his seat, knuckles white.

Not wanting further injuries (Neville was surprisingly strong), Draco didn't comment on it and joined him in staring at Harry expectantly. Abruptly, he stiffened in pain and began to clutch at his throat. Draco's eyes flicked to Neville in panic. Was this supposed to happen?

He wasn't given much time to consider it though, as Harry flung himself into the lake. Draco's breath froze inside his throat, as he waited for Harry to come up for air. Only he didn't.

"Well, that was either very good or very bad." Neville told him, his knuckles still white and clutching the edge of his seat. Draco couldn't help but agree. The Gryffindors around them took note of their exchange. Draco gulped as one of the notorious Weasley twins leaned forward to speak in his ear.

"If you're responsible for that stuff Harry just ate, you better hope that he lives." The first one said.

"Otherwise, the pranks you've seen so far are absolutely cute compared to what will happen." Said the second redhead.

"But if he does survive"

"And he wins this task"

"We might possibly forgive you"

Draco glared at them. "Forgive me for what? I haven't done anything to you!"

"Ah, Gred, it seems like Malfoy here is suffering from memory loss."

"Seems like it, Forge. Doesn't he remember what a git he was for the last four years?"

"Gryffindor sucks this,"

"Weasleys are scum that," The back-and-forth nature of their monologue was giving Draco a headache.

"My father will hear about this every other sentence." That phrase was one his imposter had overused and an expression the _real_ Draco Malfoy would never have used willingly.

"But don't worry,"

"We will actually consider forgiving you."

"The pranks might even stop and everything." It was all Draco could do to stop himself from screaming in their faces that he never did any of that stuff, but in the end he didn't have to.

Neville looked at the twins. In his sleep-deprived state, he actually managed to appear quite intimidating. "Actually, it was me who gave Harry the gillyweed, so stop trying to annoy Malfoy." His tone of voice made no room for argument and the twins began to seem rather nervous.

"Honestly" and "Sounded like mum" were all he managed to catch, before the twins made their escape. Suddenly, cheers broke out through the crowd and the Gryffindors craned their necks towards the water, but only saw Cedric Diggory and... was that Cho?

Draco stared at Neville in horror. "They have to rescue _people_ down there?" Neville looked a little green. Both wondered who was left down there. Draco scanned the crowd. Fleur had returned to the surface while they were arguing with Fred and George, but she didn't appear to have anyone with her.

Another shout of applause came, but this time, it was mostly from the Durmstrang crowd, their Headmaster one of the loudest. Draco watched as Victor Krum emerged from the water, his eyes widening as he realised it was _Hermione Granger_ he had with him. "There's no way Harry would leave Hermione down there." Draco watched as he saw an identical expression of dread spread across Neville's face. Where was Harry?

Ignoring Neville's exclamations of protest, Draco pushed his way through the crowd until he reached the judges and Madam Pomfrey. Hermione and the others were wrapped in thick blankets, while Fleur was hiccoughing in an undignified way and clutched onto Madame Maxime's robes. However, Draco was stopped from coming any closer by a red haired boy with horned glasses.

"No one is allowed past this point."

"But-"

The red head sniffed. "Not even your father's influence will get you past me, Malfoy. To think that he used to work at the _Ministry_!"

Neville appeared beside Draco. "Get out of the way Percy, we just want to make sure that Hermione is alright."

"I couldn't possibly-"

"Then where's Ron?" Draco demanded, all of the pieces finally falling into place. He hadn't seen him all morning, or last night in the dormitory. As much as his annoying, ginger dorm-mate was concerned, Draco wouldn't mind never seeing him ever again, but he wouldn't wish something like this to happen to him.

Percy looked surprised. "Well, I suppose he-" His eyes widened as he realised where his younger brother was. A lot of colour left his face and he let the two Gryffindors pass.

"Well, what now?" Said an irritated Neville, as they reached the judges' table. Draco made a mental note to give him a pillow as soon as they made sure Harry was alive. He was about to admit that he had no idea what to do now, because if Harry Potter died at the bottom of the Black Lake trying to rescue Weasley of all people, there was very little he or Neville could do.

And then, a screeching sound filled the air, as Ron, Harry and a girl appeared on the surface of the lake, surrounded by merpeople. Percy and Fleur charged towards them, enveloping their siblings in hugs before they even left the lake. Neville attempted to join them in congratulating Harry, but Draco grabbed the sleeves of his robes.

"He's alive. We didn't kill him with a bad batch of gillyweed." Draco told him. He towed Neville behind him, still holding his sleeve. "We can learn the results later, but right now, you need to sleep." As brilliant as Neville was, Draco didn't trust him not to punch Harry instead of congratulate him, after keeping him up for an entire night, then convincing him that he was dead. In that moment, Draco completely forgot about the terrible feeling he had about his imposter and raced the Weasley twins back to Gryffindor Tower, hoping that he could get Neville tucked up before they started releasing fireworks.


	12. The Dream

**Hello everyone! Sorry updates are still irregular - but I'm working on it!**

 **This is a slightly long and complicated chapter which starts to explain how the imposter came to be.**

 **In other news, does anyone have a good riddle I can use for the Ravenclaw Common Room in my story "Stereotypes" ? Thanks.**

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In the months following the second task, life at Hogwarts seemed to settle. Draco had managed to make a few friends inside Gryffindor Tower and even Ronald Weasley didn't give him half as many mistrustful glares as before. The only noises that disturbed the calm were the howlers sent to Hermione, but even those began to disappear as exam season loomed - perhaps Rita Skeeter was running out of gossip.

Everything seemed infinitely better than in December, when Draco had still been locked up; forgotten and friendless. Unfortunately, it was just the calm before the storm.

After a day of wrestling nifflers in an attempt to retrieve his wristwatch, Draco Malfoy collapsed into his four poster bed and dragged the hangings around him. He didn't bother to climb out of his robes and in his exhaustion, his eyelids fluttered shut as soon as his head hit the pillow. Poor Draco was too tired to notice that he no longer felt the occlumency shields from his imposter at the edge of his mind.

* * *

Malfoy smiled as he bowed before his Lord. This task upon which the Dark Lord's return depended on was all too easy for him. The tales his father had regaled him with when he was younger came to mind, tales about the noble Dark Lord who would cleanse the world of the unworthy and praise those most loyal to him. Malfoy just knew that he was going to be one of the praised when this was over.

The Dark Lord had been most pleased when Malfoy was able to give him almost four years of information on the Boy Who Lived and Malfoy felt a smug satisfaction that his knowledge would be put to a much worthier cause than the rag Skeeter wrote for. He exited the room that held his master, sneering at Wormtail as he left. Walking down the dark hallway, Malfoy passed the giant serpent, Nagini. Releasing an involuntary shudder, Malfoy reminded himself that he must prepare for the task ahead if he wanted to be rewarded. The alternative was unthinkable.

Entering a small, almost-habitable bedroom on the second floor, Malfoy sat down on the bed. Placing his head in his hands, not in despair, but in concentration, he began to focus. Progress was slow, but Malfoy worked on the surface first. He banished all of his stray thoughts - worrying about his future, how his father and Pansy were holding up without him - then dug himself deeper, gradually excavating his own mind. When all of his thoughts and emotions had been carefully sorted, Malfoy collapsed his occulemency shields and found himself in the mind of someone else...

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Draco's dream began as usual. Although he hadn't seen this nightmare in years, had forgotten its terror, the scenes remained as clear and colourful as the memories they were based upon.

Ten-year-old Draco Malfoy stood before his father, head bowed and cheeks aflame with a mixture of shame and defiance. His back was as straight as ever though and his hands were clasped respectfully behind his back. He was young, but other than his cheeks which were rouged with determination, his skin was frighteningly pale, as though he didn't see the sun that often. Draco refused to meet his father's eyes and braced himself for another ban of anything involving Quidditch or the outside of Malfoy Manor.

"Look at me." Lucius Malfoy was furious, his anger rolling off him in waves, every inch a terrifying Death Eater. Draco stared resolutely at the floor, yet he knew he was just prolonging the inevitable. His father's anger was something he had often been exposed to over the years, but still Draco continued to defy him. He would not be the perfect son he was expected to be.

"Look. At. ME!" Draco heard the unmistakeable sound of his father's wand being drawn and flinched back instinctively, still avoiding his gaze, knowing it would infuriate him even more. His father had never beaten him or used an unforgivable, but there were still spells within the law that he could use. A ray of light hit him in the chest and he staggered backwards, gasping. He glanced up in pain and finally met his father's eyes.

This was always the worst part of the dream. Perhaps the precise moment that his last shred of childhood was torn from him, that eternal second which left him screaming in his private St Mungo's ward late at night. At ten years old, Draco Malfoy watched his father in terror as he lay sprawled on the floor of the study. It was his eyes, so similar to young Draco's; those frightful eyes that held not a single scrap of mercy.

Usually, this was the point that Draco woke up screaming in an empty hospital ward.

Yet this time the dream continued and Draco felt bile and panic rising inside his throat, although he was still unable to wake up. He stayed still, unable to move. He remembered what had happened after and knew what was coming next.

The head of the Most Ancient House of Malfoy flicked his wand in Draco's direction and levitated him out of the door to his study. His fair haired son struggled all the while, but was unable to break free, as Lucius dragged him up a flight of stairs, towards the Malfoy Library. They finally stopped beside a shelf of tomes so dark that young Draco could feel the darkness almost seeping out of them.

"Your behaviour is entirely unacceptable for someone of the Malfoy name." Lucius paused, while Draco struggled to move, speak or even cry. "...And you have absolutely nothing to say for yourself." Draco was unable to even glare.

Draco's father looked down on his pathetic body sprawled across the library floor. "You are not my son." If Draco had not been bound by magic, he would have been paralysed with shock. The only reason Draco had been able to get away with the stunts he had pulled before was because his family needed an heir, so they were unable to disinherit him. Now, there was no such limitation to protect him. Suddenly, Draco was very, very scared.

In the meantime, Lucius Malfoy had taken one of the darkest books from the shelf (a thin, aged manual beside what looked like a black diary) and began flipping through it. He glanced at Draco in disgust.

"It appears to require your blood," he stated.

And then the screaming started.


	13. The Eye of the Snake

**Yes, this update has taken forever. Sorry about that. This chapter is set a couple of weeks from the last one and is from the perspective of Neville again.**

 **Enjoy!**

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Neville was worried about his friends.

After Harry had had a screaming fit in the Divination classroom while clutching his scar last week, Neville had noticed his housemate giving him continual side glances. It was really beginning to unnerve him and neither Hermione nor Ron had seemed to notice anything different.

The other problem was his totally-not-friend Draco Malfoy. Like Harry, he'd had a screaming nightmare recently and had been acting strangely ever since. While Neville hadn't been especially close to the pseudo-Gryffindor, they had at least spoken to each other in class and in the common room, even if they usually ignored each other anywhere else. Now however, Draco wouldn't even give him the time of day and was cold and unapproachable to any of the Gryffindors that tried to communicate with him (not that there were many of those, but at least the Weasley twins had been leaving him alone since the second task).

They were now in the last week of their end of year exams, with the third task rapidly approaching, so it was probably natural that Draco was disappearing off for hours on end to study. On the other hand though, it didn't seem like the Draco (the Draco Malfoy Neville had met at Christmas) that he knew and as much as he tried to deny it, Neville found himself missing his newest dorm-mate.

Which was precisely why Neville was following him.

Intellectually, Neville knew that Draco wouldn't appreciate him spying and it was unlikely that he was going to witness anything unusual, but Neville's gut was twisting in a sense of dread that he couldn't ignore. There was just something wrong with Draco...

It was late after curfew and he had exams in the morning. Neville was briefly reminded of his first year when he had attempted to prevent Ron, Hermione and Harry from losing Gryffindor house points. Almost exactly four years later, it was him going on some fool-hearted quest after lights-out and the irony wasn't lost on him. Creeping through the darkened hallways, Neville willed himself to melt into the shadows, praying that he didn't encounter any teachers or Peeves.

After what seemed like an eternity, Neville watched as the vividly blond boy unlocked a side chamber off the Great Hall. Neville frowned in confusion. Wasn't that where the teachers stored the Goblet of Fire when it wasn't in use? Uncomprehending, Neville slowly inched closer to the door and stiffened, startled as he began to hear voices from inside the room.

"-preparations in place? ... not afford any mistakes..."

"Dark Lord... from Bertha Jorkins... no sign..."

"...don't underestimate... the Third Task... bring Potter."

Horrified, Neville was unable to move in shock from what he had just overheard. There seemed to be some sort of complex plot concerning the Boy Who Lived and Voldemort (but really, when wasn't there?). And why the hell was _Draco_ in on it? Uncertain as to what role his classmate was playing in the fight between Light and Dark, Neville forced himself to remain by the door, hoping against hope that this was some massive understanding. He had to be certain of what he heard before he could go confronting anyone about it.

But surely Draco wouldn't?

Forcing himself to take a deep breath to calm down, Neville exited his thoughts and retuned himself into the conversation beyond the door, straining his ears desperately.

"Take care of it... mistakes... cost you..." It was unmistakably some kind of threat.

There was something indecipherable exchanged.

"...Outside this door!"

Neville barely had time to gulp before the door flew open. Stumbling backwards, Neville fumbled for his wand, but ended up tripping over his own robes in his haste to get away and ended up tumbling to the floor of the Great Hall. For the millionth time, Neville cursed his luck. The Fates always seemed to have it out for him. Just why had he followed Malfoy?

"We've caught you now, you little sneak!" Gazing up from his position on the floor, Neville stared up fearfully at the grinning face of Mad-Eye Moody. It was really quite disconcerting.

"P-p-professor!" He stuttered. He was in so much trouble for being out of bed. He shuddered to think that he had been eavesdropping on the legendary master auror. It hadn't been some nefarious plot after all, just Moody's paranoid ramblings. "P-p-please d-don't turn m-me into a f-ferret!"

Neville was shaking so badly, that he was doing a very good impression of Professor Quirrell, his back cold against the hard ground.

Moody laughed, his malicious, grizzled grin spreading wider. "Well Longbottom, I doubt detention is going to get us anywhere this time. Oh, how I'd love to finish the job from fourteen years ago..."

"Stop!"

Both student and teacher turned, Moody's wand still raised. Malfoy slid out of the shadows, a contemplative look across his face.

"He could be useful to the Dark Lord."

Neville whimpered, not entirely understanding what was going on, but two imposing figures were standing over him and one was still aiming his wand at his chest. "Draco? What's going on?"

Malfoy stepped closer, his eyes as cold and uncaring as they had been for the past few weeks. "It's time for you to learn your place, you stupid squib. You should be honoured, it's not like the Dark Lord would usually notice someone as pathetic as you!"

"Draco?" Neville whispered, dread flooding his stomach like a thousand Potions lessons at once. What little hope he had left that this was some sort of awful misunderstanding was dissipating by the second.

Malfoy rearranged his features into an arrogant smirk, hate filling his grey eyes, every inch the Slytherin that Neville had once feared.

He raised his wand.


End file.
